Over the Rainbow

Welcome to the first (and hopefully not last!) installment of Over the Rainbow, a serial blog aimed at highlighting hallmarks of LGBT culture throughout history. Here you'll find celebrities, artists, writers, painters, musicians known for either their sexuality (or questioned for it), or their material as it speaks out towards a community of individuals seeking identity and union. These individuals will stretch throughout history, so no, this is not merely a cover of the most current and rising gay icons (though Gaga and Britney will get their dues, I promise!) Think of this as a history lesson that sheds light on LGBT issues at various points in time.

To begin this series let us look to the film that made the title of this blog famous: The Wizard of Oz. Released in the summer of 1939, the film is an adaptation of L. Frank Baum's work The Wonderful Wizard of Oz that covers the fantastical and often dangerous adventures of Dorothy Gale as she wanders through the Land of Oz to find her way back home to Kansas. The film is noted for its cinematography, which places a very distinct contrast between Dorothy's dreary home in Kansas (shot in Sepia tone), and the vibrant and brilliant Land of Oz (shot in Technicolor). Another directing choice that separates the film from the novel is the use of parallel characters, as Dorothy encounters individuals in Oz that mirror those back home, who are in fact played by the same actors.

This combination dualism and juxtaposition of color has itself been seen as a commentary of LGBT societal pressures to play two separate characters: that which satisfies and conforms the reserved and strained heteronormative culture of the time, and the freer, more vibrant Land of Oz that celebrates individuality and creativity. This vivacity and otherworldliness is itself the epitome of camp, that over-the-top theatricality and performance that sheds all inhibitions and worries over the eyes of judgmental observers. Judy Garland, herself, is considered an example of camp personified, lending to her labeling as one of the most famous gay icons in the 20th century, her personal struggles during her later career garnering identification and support from the gay community and culminating in a cult following of impersonators and adoring fans. In fact, Garland's portrayal of the young farm girl was so adored that a common covert conventionality (alliteration much?) of the time was to refer to a member of the LGBT community as a "friend of Dorothy." Like the companions that Dorothy meets along the yellow brick road, these individuals were also different, awkward, or socially unacceptable by society for going against the grain.

Looking closer at the title song, it is clear that the singer longs for somewhere where they can fully express themselves, where "the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true," free of repressing naysayers. How can individuals struggling to either identify or express their sexuality not relate to this desire to be treated with full merit to have all their troubles "melt like lemon drops" and make the bold claim that they too are a person with feelings and rights to exist and be heard among the masses. The rainbow, too, is both the manner in which to achieve this acceptance as well as the most prevalent example iconography in the LGBT, a banner and symbol of unification for all those that dare to stray from the status quo. Even the last line of the song, repeated for emphasis, is a call for change:

If happy little blue birds fly

beyond the rainbow,

why, oh why cant I?

The singer's pathos can either be of indignation at those who repress or irony, for who is anyone to deny a person their right to reach their full potential and seek out their own happiness? Unfortunately, for manner this lyric may also resonate as a futile attempt to break free of the ties that, for now at least, continue to weigh them down and leave them room only to dream. I now leave you all with a clip from another famous Judy Garland film, Meet Me in St. Louis, as my personal wish for you to find joy and happiness this Holiday Season, regardless of your religious affiliations. Maybe next year, our troubles, too, will be miles away:

Mixed Blood

Screenings, tests, questionnaires, we’ve all been subject to the selecting process in some way, shape, or form; at times we find ourselves included on the right side of the metaphoric fence, and at others we are left out in the cold with the rest of the garbage. Rejection is never a positive experience (one would think), but we assume that we were not chosen because of our lacking merit, and in a justly manner, no less. For it must be true, obviously, that the standards and reasoning behind these selections were valid and without bias, right?

The world has never been short of its bigoted, excluding parties, and today is no different.

For most individuals who pop into Duke’s American Red Cross Blood Drive Donation Reception Area (sounds so much more official than just saying Von Canon, doesn’t it?), question 34 of the screening questionnaire is just another negligent hurdle to jump before you can claim your cookie and juice box. For others, however, including yours truly, it is a moral crossroads. Answer “no” and you walk free, most likely to the end, nonetheless affected save for that bruise on your arm from the volunteer continuously missing your vein (c’mon, seriously). But answer “yes”, and you find yourself forever banned, your name on a list of individuals deemed too risky to give.

The question in question (hehe, puns) is as follows: “From 1977 to the present, have you had sexual contact with another male, even once?” Now for me, the most insulting aspect of this question is not that it dares to equate my sexual activity unfit for the donor room, but the “even once” additive. As if we’re cheating members of Weight Watchers packing the Oreo filling between two cookies and calling it one serving. Oh, hell, it was just once, it won’t count, right? Quite frankly, those two small words insult the integrity and intelligence of the person in question (hehe, more puns) in what is already a discriminate and unfair topic to discuss.

Recently, The Advocate posted an article in their October issue concerning the battle of the lifelong ban of gay men by the FDA, detailing the origin of the ban, its supporters, its critics, and the measures taken. Basically, the ban came about amidst the HIV/AIDS scare and was taken as an extreme preventative measure that has, clearly, outstayed its welcome. Nowhere does the questionnaire screen heterosexual couples for their promiscuity, nor does it offer as severe a punishment for other “questionable” behaviors. In fact, many of the organizations that hold these blood drives (the American Red Cross included) are advocating that the FDA rethink its policy. As of yet, the administration is unyielding, yet Obama’s newest appointments promise at least a potential screening, giving the questionnaire a taste of its own medicine.

Again I cop out, Dear Reader, and leave the discussion up to you, but here are some facts to consider as you fill the comments box *cough cough*:

· Unprotected anal intercourse presents the highest risk due to the propensity for the rectal tissue to tear, permitting an access for infected blood and semen

· Other behavioral risk factors result in a 12-month deferral from donating versus the lifelong ban of MSM contact, a revision many are considering for #34—though I don’t see HOW they expect anyone to wait a year

· 15% of HIV infection is through anal intercourse, while 60% is through vaginal, according to the World Health Organization

So there you have it: now have at it!

PDgAy? Fine with Me

Oh look! They're holding hands; let's stare at them.

A typical high school hallway of giddy, giggling girls? Not quite. This is what many couples face every day of their lives, long after they've emptied their lockers. And before this semester, a level of conspicuousness to which I had yet been exposed…

“Do you wanna dance?”

A simple enough question, but for one of few out students on campus, one packed with consequences. It was nine o’clock on a Friday night in early September, and a large crowd had gathered outside the Chapel for Salsa on the Steps. Gorged with dinner from Bali Hai, I was ready to dance my butt off. Or so I thought. But to be perfectly honest, I was quite terrified. Outside the safety of Vespa or Thrive (if you keep an eye on your drink), I wasn’t sure how ready I was display my sexuality for everyone to see, both friend and stranger alike.

But I took his hand. And we started dancing. And… nothing happened. No thunder from the sky, no gasps of abhorred shock. Someone from the event started taking pictures, but despite the initial racing of my heart, I didn’t mind it that much. As I left the event my mind kept drifting back to that moment, a moment that I recognized as a step forward in my coming out process. And as the week wore on, I grew more and more daring in expressing and affirming myself: holding hands, cuddling on the quad, kissing. Yes, kissing.

This is the part where I could either write a gumdrop fairy tale of how surprisingly accepting the campus can be of LGBT couples, or tear down an uplifting story with harsh realities of glares, scoffs, and feelings of scrutiny under a microscope that is Duke social life. The truth is, both scenarios exist. We’re only as open as we show ourselves to be, and we all come from different walks of life (ulgh, literary clichés). For some, that means finding a welcoming environment; for others, a bitter de-masking of false pretenses. As far as I’m concerned, the responsibility lies in the individual. You ultimately decide what world you want to live in, and your inaction can speak just as loudly as what you do decide to instigate. For me, that meant taking a risk, hoping I wouldn’t become a pariah by shoving my “homo agenda” in everyone’s face. And don’t I have that right? Don’t we all reserve the right to express our love freely without judgment from others—or, in a more practical state of mind, without too much vocal judgment from others? I believe so, and I hope you do to.

So don’t be afraid. Take the next step. Then another. And another. Soon, you’ll find we’re all marching in support with you.